Page 2 of To Tempt A Highland Duke
“Do you hate your father so much that you’d use me as a pawn to hurt him? Is it because he is desirous of our match that you purposely opposed it?” Her sorrow rang with anger. “I hate you, Dougray Firth. I hate you for making me fall in love with you and for giving me a dream and then taking it away. Just go away before you break my heart completely.” Her head lowered to her knees, and she began sobbing.
He couldn’t stand it. He reached down and scooped her into his arms and took her place on the bench, placing her in his lap. She did not stop crying. She merely buried her face against his chest and sobbed.
He sat there gently rocking her and wished things could be different. He wished he didn’t love her so much. But it was because he loved her, that he would let her go. Seeing her married to another would be his living hell, but at least she would be alive and he could see her occasionally.
He didn’t know how long they sat there. Eventually her sobbing stopped, and she fell asleep in his arms.
He pressed a kiss to her head and imprinted the feel of her into his memory and heart.
Finally, as dawn began to break, he carried her back toward the house. He was halfway through the rose garden when Angus appeared.
“Give her to me.”
He didn’t want to, but he knew Angus was angry and hurt. He gently passed Flora to her brother. She didn’t even stir.
Angus shook his head. “I don’t know why you are doing this. If I believed like most that it is to get back at your father, I would beat you until you could not walk for days. But I know it is something else. I hope one day you will have the decency to tell me why.”
Angus turned his back to enter the house. He stopped with his foot on the first step. “I think it best you leave immediately after the wedding breakfast. And I need some time to get over this.”
He knew his friendship with Angus would never be the same.
He’d lost two friends this night.
Chapter 1
Edinburgh, August 1822 - eight years later
“Please stop giggling, and come and help me with the table setting,” Lady Flora wished Sarah, the young serving girl standing in the corridor, was a little less attractive. Sarah turned many a man’s head, too beautiful for her own good. Flora would remind Lady Mary to ensure the youngest and prettiest girls were locked well away from the powerful men who were arriving tomorrow.
The King being one of them.
Palace of Holyrood House was in the middle of a spring clean. For the first time in almost two centuries the King would step onto Scottish soil, and Lady Flora was lucky enough to have accepted an invitation to witness and part-take of the occasion. She’d been tasked with overseeing the dinning room decorations and table settings for the dinner to occur here in two night’s time.
Sarah scurried forward, approaching the large dining table dominating the room. “I’m sorry, my lady. I have ironed the other tablecloths as requested, but I need one of the men to carry them for me. They’re heavy.”
“I can fetch them for you, pretty Sarah.” The youthful male voice from the corridor revealed all. Flora wanted to roll her eyes. No wonder Sarah had been in the corridor giggling. Young Conner Firth leaned in the doorway, his eyes flirting with Sarah, and she was mesmerized by the handsome lad; as most of the serving girls, and even some palace ladies, were.
Dougray had been only eighteen when Connor was born. It seemed so long ago now. At fourteen years of age, and yet almost six feet tall already, Connor, with his father’s black hair and piercing blue eyes, was fulfilling her expectations of being a heartbreaker. Connor took after his father in more than just looks, it would seem. He loved the bonny lasses.
“Connor Firth. I’m sure your father has more important tasks for you than pestering the serving girls,” Flora scolded.
“Oh, Lady Flora, you know you are still my favorite,” and he laughed in his still to fully deepen voice.
She swung round with hands on her hips. “I remember a time when I put you over my knee. You’re not too old for me to do that again.”
This time he uncrossed his arms and winked at her. “I might just enjoy that.”
God help her, but she could feel her face flush with color. Oh, to be a young girl again. Connor certainly made her feel old, and yet she had only just turned eight and twenty.
A respectable age for a widow, but too young to stay a widow for the rest of your life.
“If your father catches you wasting time here, there will be hell to pay.”
At her words, his smile dimmed slightly.
She turned to Sarah who was still standing there playing with her hair. “Fetch two of the laundry lads to help you.”
Sarah sighed as she slipped past Connor, who’d stepped further into the room to let the young girl past. Flora was pretty sure she saw Connor’s fingers pinch her bottom as Sarah slipped out of the room.
